The Pirate's Daughter. Helen Dickson

checked it. ‘Women don’t belong on pirate ships,’ he told her firmly, unable to hide his opinions where women and ships were concerned.

      Cassandra’s eyes widened with pleading, and she smiled in a way that had never failed to melt Nat’s heart.

      ‘And don’t look at me like that,’ Drum growled, hardening his heart against the coercion of her smile. Such sentiments spelt his ruin. ‘I’m not like Nat, who you could wind round your finger like a strand of cotton.’

      ‘Please, Drum. There’s nothing for me here. Time and again I’ve sworn to leave when the opportunity presents itself—and this is it. Following Nat’s last visit—a visit that was witnessed by our neighbours—some people have come to know who I am, and they’re not kind. They call me names, the favourites being that I am a bastard—a pirate’s spawn—and there are worse.’ There was an edge to her voice that hardened her tone. ‘Oh, my Lord! How I hate those people. Until then I hadn’t realised the extent of John and Meredith’s protection.’

      Drum checked the words of sympathy that rose to his lips. She had no need of them. There was nothing self-pitying in her, in the anger that flamed on her cheeks and set her eyes on fire. Beneath the serene grace was a soul craving excitement and adventure, a spirit struggling to be set free. Drum shook his head, his brows drawn together, for it boded ill, he was certain.

      ‘Nat wouldn’t thank me if I put you in danger. Do you think he would have allowed you to leave your Cousin John’s protection?’

      ‘Domination,’ Cassandra countered coldly. ‘I love John and Meredith dearly, but the kind of life they plan for me—married to some man I would never set my cap at—fills me with dread.’ Secretly she dreamed of marrying a man who was dashing and handsome, bold and with a sense of adventure—a man like Nathaniel Wylde.

      Drum squinted at her sideways. ‘And what makes you think life on the high seas is a playground? Although I suppose the tales Nat filled your head with would have you think so.’

      Drum was right. Cassandra had fallen beneath the spell her father wove. The stories he had regaled her with had been more potent than the strongest wine. But she was neither deceived nor disillusioned by them and had long since decided that the dashing heroes of Nat’s tales were outlaws, careful to keep well ahead of the law.

      ‘Nat’s life was fashioned by his own hands,’ Drum continued. ‘We were alike. Our souls fed on the same spirit of adventure and a desire to succeed in all we set out to do. Nat was a man of fire, who thought nothing of life if it held no challenge—and such consideration he felt for his daughter was a twist of character you would not expect in such a hardened rogue. But I knew him too well to interpret it as weakness.

      ‘Regardless of the risks, he was drawn back to you time and again like a lodestone, and there were times when it almost cost him his life. I loved Nat like a brother, but that doesn’t change the fact that he was a notorious pirate with a well-deserved reputation for villainy.’

      The colour slowly drained from Cassandra’s face. Drum saw it and forged ahead, refusing to spare her, determined to get it out in the open and make her see Nat for what he was. Too much sentimentality was unthinkable.

      ‘You’ve convinced yourself Nat was practically a saint, who could do no wrong. The truth is he was much closer to a devil than a saint, and everyone knows it. You were naïve enough to believe his boast that he would never harm anyone.’

      ‘He was still my father and I loved him,’ Cassandra remarked defensively.

      ‘You loved an illusion, an illusion you created out of the tales he spun because you were innocent and idealistic.’

      ‘I know that,’ she said, fighting to control the wrenching anguish that was strangling her breath in her chest, ‘and blind, gullible and stupid. But I refuse to believe that the man my mother fell in love with was all bad. He was my life, my king, and the sea was his own special realm into which I have always dreamed of being initiated.’

      ‘Love blinds you. There’s much you don’t know about Nat.’

      ‘I know, which is why I want to feel what it is like to experience a little of what he did.’

      ‘And risk capture—even death?’

      ‘Yes. Please, Drum, take me with you.’ Her eyes implored him to comply. ‘I don’t fear the consequence of my actions. I don’t care if I die tonight or tomorrow or in the weeks to come.’

      Drum looked at her, and then away again. ‘That is why I want you to stay here, for the same reason.’

      ‘Cousin John is in the Caribbean at this time on Company business. Meredith is in Kent visiting her grandmother and isn’t due back for ages yet. I’ll leave her a note explaining where I have gone. She’ll be angry, I know, but I’ll be halfway across the Atlantic by the time she returns to Chelsea.’ She dismissed her cousin without a second thought as she concentrated on the reckless, foolhardy plan forming in her mind, which was beginning to take on a positive shape.

      ‘You have it all mapped out, don’t you?’

      When the good side of Drum’s lips turned down in censure, Cassandra’s resolution to stay calm faltered and she fixed him with a fierce stare. ‘I’m not so chicken-livered that I will faint on finding myself the only woman aboard with a shipload of men,’ she said, voicing her impatience. ‘Besides, if they respect Nat as much as you say they did, as his daughter I’ll be safe enough.’

      ‘I expect you would.’ Drum raised a brow in mock reproof. ‘I was considering your sensibilities.’

      ‘Then don’t.’ Drawing a deep breath, she controlled the urge to shake him. ‘I shall go to Barbados—to John, which is where he will be for the next twelve months at least. Oh, Drum—’ she sighed when she saw doubt cloud his eyes ‘—I want to feel the deck of the Dolphin beneath my feet—to feel the pull of the wind in my hair and smell the sea. I want to know how it was when you sailed with Nat. You of all people should be able to understand that.’

      ‘Aye, you’ll know how it was when you feel the deck heaving beneath your feet. Not many people can stand the motion of a ship’s deck. You’ll be sick right enough.’ Despite his exasperation over her stubbornness, Drum was filled with admiration for her courage, but the rigid, unyielding expression on his scarred face as he looked at her revealed none of this.

      Cassandra met his stare, equally resolute. ‘If I am, I’ll get over it. When we reach Barbados the Dolphin is yours to do with as you please.’

      Despite his misgivings, Drum gave a twisted grin and a wicked, twinkling gleam shone in his eyes. ‘I would give a thousand pieces of eight to see your cousin’s reaction when you arrive on Barbados unheralded.’

      Cassandra sensed he was weakening and seized the advantage. ‘Then you agree to take me?’

      He laughed quietly and rubbed his chin, his expression resigned. ‘You have a persuasive tongue—but I don’t like it. I still say a woman has no place at sea. If I do succeed in securing the Dolphin, your presence on board will be a complication. You are an innocent and as such will need vigilant protection. I don’t relish the role of knight-errant being forced on me. God willing we’ll encounter fair weather that will enable me to deliver you to your cousin before too long.’

      As they walked on Drum’s eyes were bright with anticipation as he became infused with Cassandra’s enthusiasm. She was Nat’s daughter all right—tall, graceful and lithe, as slender as a wand and as agile as a faun. There was an arresting quality about her face and an inner vivacious light shone from her eyes, showing a passion for life—fire and ice. Her mind was strong, her manner bold and determined—a legacy of Nat’s.

      ‘There’s one thing we must speak of. Your father amassed great wealth over the years. The authorities have been unable to lay their hands on it. Only myself and the remaining members of the crew know where it is to be located. What is to be done with it?’

      ‘As to